basking, and, as Ted approached, a vigilant and pugnacious gander rushed towards him, flapping its wings and extending its long neck with portentous hisses.  Ted had been carrying his coat over his arm for the sake of coolness, and now, whether because he thought it would be a humorous thing to do, or because he was secretly a little terrified at the rapid advance of the bellicose gander, he struck with it at the luckless bird with such force that he stretched it on the sod.

“Hello!” cried Ted, stopping short, astonished and perturbed at his sudden victory, “I b’lieve I’ve done for th’ owd chap.”

“My word,” commented Joe, “if thou has thou’ll be like to hear on it!  That theer’s Margaret Hep.’s gander; hoo thinks the world on’t, hoo does.”

Ted was meanwhile bending over his prostrate foe, which, to his relief, was not absolutely dead, though it was gasping and turning up its eyes in rather a ghastly manner.  He took it up in his arms, still enfolded in his coat.

“It’s wick still, as how ‘tis,” he remarked.  “Eh! how it’s kickin’ out with they ugly yaller legs!  Now then, owd lad, what mun we do wi’it, think’st thou?  Mun I finish it off an’ carry it wi’ me to Jack Orme’s for a marlock?  Eh! the lads ‘ud laugh if they see me coomin’ in wi’ it!  I’ll tell ’em I’d brought ’em a Crestmas dinner in July.  My word, it’s tough enough!  I reckon it ‘ud want keepin’; it wouldn’t be ready mich afore Crestmas!”

Joe’s wits, at no time very nimble, required some time to take in this audacious proposal, and he was just beginning the preliminary deprecating roll of the head, which he intended to precede a remark to the effect that Margaret ’ud happen have summat to say about that, when the angular figure of Miss Heptonstall herself appeared at the corner of the lane.  She paused a moment aghast at the sight of the struggling gander, still enveloped in Ted’s coat, and then, with extended hands and wildly-flapping drapery, hastened towards him—­her aspect being not unlike that assumed by the unfortunate biped in question when he had first advanced to the attack.

“Victoria!” she gasped, when she at last halted beside the men.  “Eh! whatever’s getten Victoria?”

“Do ye mean this ’ere?” questioned Ted, hoisting the gander a little higher up under his arm.  “Well, I cannot think whatever coom to the poor thing.  Joe and me was goin’ our ways along to Orme’s when we heerd it give a kind of skrike out, and we looked round, and it were staggerin’ along same as if it were fuddled, ye know, and all at once it give another skrike an’ tumbled down aside o’ th’ road.  Didn’t it, Joe?”

Joe again rolled a deprecatory eye at his crony and cleared his throat, but did not otherwise commit himself.

“It mun ha’ been a fit or soom sich thing,” continued Ted, cocking his hat over his eye and glancing waggishly at Lovelady.  “When Joe see it, says he, ’My word, there’ll be a pretty to do!  This is Margaret Hep.’s gander,’ says Joe—­no, I think he said, ‘Miss Heptonstall’s gander.’  Didn’t thou, Joe?  Joe’s allus so respectful and civil-spoke, pertic’larly when it’s a lady as he’s a-talking about.”